


Tubbo_ Went off With a Bang

by thunder_fox_7



Series: Tubbo-centric One Shots :) [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Explosions, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Angst, Temporary Character Death, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, after many years and then we get back up bc we're cool like that, also a lot of metaphors, also the title makes it out to be a lot darker and sadder than it is, borderline excessive use of parentheses, it's just introspective, most of it's implied but it's still there i'd say, no beta we die like philza:, ok i think that's all the tags i need, or more than borderline idk your preferences on that, yeah those are for tommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_fox_7/pseuds/thunder_fox_7
Summary: It's shortly after trading the weapon that killed him (twice) to the man who killed him with it (who was accompanied by his dead best friend) for the life of a man who didn't even live in his country that Tubbo realizes L'Manberg is a lost cause.
Relationships: (all of them are just mentioned or implied), Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Everyone, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Tubbo-centric One Shots :) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128623
Comments: 14
Kudos: 171





	Tubbo_ Went off With a Bang

It's shortly after trading the weapon that killed him (twice) to the man who killed him with it (who was accompanied by his dead best friend) for the life of a man who didn't even live in his country that Tubbo realizes L'Manberg is a lost cause. It's far from a new idea (Eret had been the first to vocalize the thought), and Tubbo thinks it's something he's known for a while now, probably starting when everything went to shit and he exiled Tommy. He's only just let himself admit it now because he can't ignore it anymore.

To be frank, he's the president of an empty country. Fundy and Niki spend most of their time in their young, hopeful new nation (Tubbo hopes it can one day be what L'Manberg was supposed to be). Quackity is the president of El Rapids, and despite the fact that it's right next to L'Manberg, Tubbo hasn't seen much of him around (He hopes the neighboring lands won't follow in L'Manberg's footsteps). Ranboo disappears a lot, and Tubbo's recently figured out that he's leaving to spend time with Tommy.

Tommy. His (former) best friend. The boy he believed to be dead. The boy who hated him. Tommy's been spending a lot of time with Technoblade (living with him, probably, judging by the clean clothing his friend wears), and last time he saw him, there's been a firey spark in his eyes Tubbo hadn't seen in a long time. Tommy was doing just fine (or he would be, Tubbo was sure of it. His friend was resilient, and with Technoblade to help him? He was unstoppable). Phil and Wilbur had also been spending a lot of time with them, focusing on being a family again (he ignores that once, he would have been right there with them).

The point is everyone had somewhere else to focus on. Someone else to worry about and rely on. Tubbo has L'Manberg, a country that was built on sweet words and war. He never asked for L'Manberg, it was handed to him by a man who used to be his brother before it was destroyed. He'd shouldered the responsibility, taken it upon himself to build the country he'd given not one but two of his lives for into what it was always meant to be.

Tubbo's definition of what it was always meant to be has changed. He'd used to believe it was meant to be a safe haven from tyranny, then Schlatt had come along and crushed that idea with one of his scuffed work shoes. He'd believed it would be a place to heal from the pain their final war had brought, high on the death of the man who'd tormented him and the adrenaline of victory, blinded by his new responsibility. Then Wilbur had blown it all up, and he'd decided not only would L'Manberg be a place to heal, it would be a place to rework the system to work better for everyone. Then Tommy had burned the King's house, and Dream had lashed out at him, and Tubbo realized he'd been stupid. L'Manberg was never going to be peaceful, never going to be a safe haven, and never going to be able to move on. 

It's not hard to find himself alone time in an empty country. Not hard to get his hands on the gunpowder and sand he needs. Not hard to rig the redstone exactly how he wants it (he's saddened by the way the red powder feels nostalgic, how long has it been since he's done this?). The lever is in the woods, just outside of the danger zone, which he's carefully created to only include the relevant land. Nothing outside of the border will be harmed. 

He waits for a day when Fundy and Niki are thousands of blocks away. When Quackity is with his people in El Rapids. When Phil and Wilbur and Techno and Tommy are safely wherever it is that they spend their time. He's written a note, because they deserve an explanation, and carefully stuck it inside Ranboo's minutes book, which he found in the other boy's nightstand when Ranboo was sleeping. It's tucked away in between two pages just a few days down the line when everyone will know what happened and he will be long gone. Ranboo himself is off, likely visiting Tommy, and Tubbo knows he won't return for many hours. It's perfect. 

He packs a bag with the essentials. Clothes, basic tools and armor (he’s leaving the war-grade things here. He doesn’t want them), and enough food to last a few days. The compass he couldn’t bring himself to part with sits in his pocket, dented and cracked and used. It doesn’t work anymore, but it feels like his last connection to Tommy. He changes out of the presidential uniform, back into his comfortable green shirt that was always just a bit big and his slightly worn jeans.

The streets of L’Manberg are empty, and his footsteps echo off the walls of buildings only recently built and yet already so scarred. It’s sad, really, how much love and hope had been poured into the land, only for its history to come back and bite _hard_. He makes rounds around every nook and cranny, making sure no one’s pets were still in their houses, and getting any animals he finds safely out of harm’s way. When he’s certain they’re safe, he returns to his country. He has one last thing to do.

The gentle buzzing of his bees never fails to ground him, and watching them dance among the flowers has always brought him a sense of peace he could rarely find anywhere else. (He used to be able to find it in watching Phil soar through the air, in the methodic and efficient way Techno’s sword slashed through the air when he practiced, in the skillful storytelling of Wilbur’s music. He used to be able to find it in Tommy’s loud laugh and hilarious bits, and the way their hands casually fit together like puzzle pieces.)

He’s gentle with them, laughing when the large bugs fly up and bump into him as a way of greeting, and setting up his ender chest in the middle of the room. His bees recognize it, by now, having traveled that way before. They follow him around the room as he carefully gathers several flowers, placing them in the weird space-bending box that he’d long since stopped thinking too hard about and leaving them floating in the void. He hears buzzing behind him as he gently detaches the hives from their places about the room, but they trust him (he thinks they’re probably the only ones who do, anymore). The hives are placed delicately in the chest, suspended in the odd, gravity-less nothing that fills it. The bees follow with only a little coaxing, and after leaving a lantern also floating to stave off the darkness, he closes the lid and picks up the surprisingly small chest. He fits it into his bag, which is similarly mind-boggling to think about, and turns around. 

The walk up to where he’s hidden the lever almost reminds him of walking under the cover of darkness toward Pogtopia once a week, except the sun is bright and the birds are singing and there’s no threat of Schlatt hanging over his shoulder (at least, not literally). The grass is green, the sky is blue, and the tall trees beckon him up the hill. When he reaches the end of where he knows his carefully hidden redstone lies, he stands next to the trigger and looks out over the land. It’s beautiful.

The clear sky provides the perfect backdrop for the sun to shine on his land, casting each building in a clear, inviting light. The wooden pathways that lead up to the platform looked ready to be walked upon, and the crater it all rested on was the only evidence there had ever been war. A scar that Tubbo had decided shouldn’t be hidden, much like the edges of his own, which crawled up over his collar and to his chin and that he had defiantly chosen to show. A symbol of growth and healing, he had thought. Part of him still believed it. He was proud of how he’d handled the immediate aftermath of the explosion, and he always would be. The problem was that was one bright spot on a tapestry of blood and darkness that had been weaving itself for too long to change its color without ruining the whole thing. 

Tubbo was going to put an end to it, so everyone could move on and heal.

He honestly expected to have second thoughts at this point. He had been so afraid to become a traitor. But they were right. Eret was right. Wilbur was right. Technoblade was right. Not in the way they went about it; Tubbo would do anything to prevent another one of his citizens from getting hurt (or, god forbid, dying), but, as Eret had so eloquently put it nearly a lifetime ago, it was simply never meant to be. Wilbur’s symphony had come to its end. The government’s time was up.

He pulled the lever and watched the land he had poured years of blood, sweat, and tears (and so much of each) into explode. Usually, he would be terrified of the sight, the sound, the smell, the entire ordeal, but he knew no one was hurt. He wasn’t hurt. He’d been preparing for this for a while. 

No, he wasn’t scared. He was at peace, calm as the weight of the nation lifted off his shoulders. He heard shouting coming from El Rapids, and small figures appeared on the hill. He watched them pull out their communicators, looking for any death messages. He knew there wouldn’t be any, and secure in the knowledge that his citizens were safe, he turned and walked into the woods, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

They were safe. It was over.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this purely because I thought it would be cathartic, and guess what? I was right. I hope you found it cathartic too, or at least a decent read :)


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